


i confess (to the rumor of us)

by oddpen



Category: Mamamoo
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-18 09:13:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8156956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oddpen/pseuds/oddpen
Summary: hs au; byulyi tells yongsun "i like you." 
yongsun has to figure out what that means





	1. one.

The autumn air cools quickly against her skin, the splatter of rain breaking away from the sky, landing cold against her.

Byulyi sits in front of her, hair tied up in a ponytail, school uniform rumpling from being worn too long.

The whistle from Yongsun’s coach rings loud behind them, faintly fading away, leaving a silence that Yongsun terribly wants to fill.

She’s not sure what to say, she lowers her eyes, unable to meet the sharp gaze Byulyi has made between them.

“You wanted to see me?” Yongsun asks, fidgets.

The wind picks up then and it brings down the rain, splattering against her neck, making her shiver.

The feeling in her gut is hot, adding to her discomfort as her eyes seem to settle on Byulyi’s mouth, rosy pink.

“I like you,” Byulyi says, voice thin, eyes looking straight at her.

There’s a warm palm pressing to the side of her wrist, fingers wrapping gently around it, the soft warmness bleeding into her cold skin.  

And then she’s being pulled forward, knees bumping painfully into the metal bleachers, eyes wide as she tries to gain balance.  

There’s an odd sensation spreading from her chest, her heart feels like it’s burning, around her ribcage, setting her belly on fire.

The mouth pressing against hers is soft.  Yongsun can’t react, standing still, hand awkwardly hovering in the space between her and Byulyi.

She realizes she’s stopped breathing, Byulyi pulls back, bangs falling over her eyes, mouth opened slightly, gaze intense.  The hand around her wrist falls away and Yongsun has no reason to stay as close as she is.

The sun peeks through the clouds, hitting hot against the back of Yongsun’s neck.  She thinks she has to say something, a feeling close to anger starting to buzz under her skin.

Byulyi stands up before Yongsun’s thoughts make sense.  Her skirt falls neatly around her knees, Yongsun notices, eyes going to the pale strip of skin of her thighs before her skirt falls lower.

She watches her leave without a word, listens to the sounds of her footfalls against the metal.  

Her cheeks heat up after that, her hand goes to her cheek, presses the palm of it in an attempt to cool herself off.

Someone calls her name from the field below, but she stays rooted, unsure of what she’s feeling, something between anger and fear and an inkling of curiosity.

 

 


	2. two.

Truthfully, sleep becomes impossible.  

Staring at the ceiling, fists curling into her blanket, she hates it.  Hates how the material of her bed clothes irritates her, suddenly too rough.  Hates that the clock is still counting down the hours but her eyes refuse to close.  

She tries to fill her head up with deadlines, papers, assignments and projects she has due.  But through all of that there’s this nagging feeling wriggling around her worries,  this unrelenting memory of soft lips on hers.

_Byulyi._

It’s silly, when she uncurls her fist from her blanket, presses her fingers to her mouth, feels how warm they are, wonders if Byulyi felt them the same way.

And then the dip of anger boils over, uncoiling in her stomach, she throws her fist down, hits the mattress, listens to the springs complain loudly.

“Unnie, please let me sleep,” her roommate says, voice bleary, “your rage is too loud.”

A blush rushes up her neck, stains her cheeks with warmness, “ah, my apologies Wheein.”

She waits for an answer, hears the way static noise leaks from the outside, the rhythmic sound of Wheein’s breathing.

She closes her eyes, but knows no sleep will come when all she sees is the way Byulyi’s skirt had risen, the lines of her thighs.

-

She’s carefully applying concealer in their shared bathroom when Wheein walks in, one sock half on, uniform disheveled.

“You’re gonna need more than that to cover them, unnie,” she squeezes past her, plucks up her toothbrush.

Yongsun looks at the mirror, pats at the dark bags under her eyes, watches the way the concealer looks thin over them.

“You must be working too hard,” Wheein says, voice muffled, “the week just started.”

-

The classroom is loud when she sits down, she smooths the sides of her hair, places her book bag neatly on her desk.  Homeroom is always loud, Yongsun sighs, lays her head against her bag.  Her eyes close, aching for sleep, there’s still a lingering feeling of something she can’t explain, it makes her uneasy.

“Yongsun-ssi?”

She looks up, sluggish and on edge.

“This is for you,” a girl, Yongsun recognizes her from Wheein’s year.  She places a folded note next to her folded arms, Yongsun sees the pink tint of it.

The other girl turns around before she gets to ask who sent it to her.  She picks it up, slowly, turns the thick paper between her fingers.

There’s a lingering scent, the spray of spring blossoms perfume.

Her heart aches, feels like it’s dropping.  She thinks of throwing it away, but her fingers peel off the tape, unfold the stationary paper, stars border the paper, the inky press of the words.  

_do you think of our kiss as much as i do?_

_lets meet again i can’t stop thinking about you._

_-moon byulyi_

She’s blushing, as the bell rings and her eyes get stuck on the sweet words, her stomach feels uneasy, curling into a feeling that’s painful, a jab of emotions.

Yongsun folds it back quickly, stuffs the note into her book bag, tries to pretend like she didn’t read it.

-

Yongsun is aware of all the talk surrounding Moon Byulyi.  All the rumors about her and other girls.  All the things she’s done with them, to them.  She’s that kind a girl.

Charming, flirty, _confusing_.

Yongsun isn’t stupid, even if her heart manages to beat faster past her anger, she’s not planning on falling.

She watches quietly, the way Byulyi pulls a girl around, jostles her playfully.  Yongsun recognizes her as the girl from the morning, same fierce eyes forming happy crescents.  

Yongsun touches her mouth, fingers pressing down when she sees the way Byulyi presses a sweet kiss to the underside of the girl’s jaw, earning a giggle and a push against her shoulder.

Yongsun looks away before their eyes can meet, turns around as she puts her books away.

As she walks away, towards her next class, she feels the way Byulyi’s gaze follows her.

-

Wheein’s already back when Yongsun makes it to their dorm later that afternoon.  Her uniform is rumpled, creased from her sitting position on her bed.

“Yongsun unnie,” she smiles when Yongsun puts her bag down, “do you want to go eat with me?”

Youngsun smiles back, relaxing a bit, “Always,” she laughs, grabbing her wallet, waiting by the door as Wheein puts her shoes back on.

They’re waiting in line to get their ids swiped when Yongsun sees the dark curtain of black hair, the way the arms of her blazer have been pushed up her elbows.  Byulyi makes her way to the food line, picking up a tray.

Yongsun can see the way other girls look at her, the fleeting looks of interest.  The way Byulyi smiles at the girls in front of her, already in line.  

It’s an innocent gesture, looking away before the girls can react to her, eyes landing on Yongsun.

She tries to look away, looking at her food but she still sees the way Byulyi’s smile turns into something more shy, contrastingly alluring.

Wheein steers her to an empty table, completely unaware, talking excitedly about their food, some sort of pasta dish.

She’s taking a sip of her juice when Byulyi stops at their table, her tray placed across from Yongsun's.

Wheein looks up from her phone, mouth full of food, eyebrows rising in confusion.

“Wheein,” she says, voice quiet, “practice starts tomorrow, don’t forget.”

Yongsun watches as Wheein nods, swallowing her mouthful, “Ah yes,” Wheein offers a smile, “I’ll try to be early.”

Byulyi barely glances at her, the corner of her mouths turning up before she leaves.

“Practice?” Yongsun asks, pushing her food around.

“For archery,” Wheein stops eating, “didn’t I tell you I made the team?”

Yongsun nods, mind already trailing off.  

-

She finds the note again when she’s doing her homework, jammed between her notebooks.

One of the corners has folded, the smell of perfume still strong.

She unfolds it when Wheein leaves for a shower.

_lets meet again..._


	3. three.

She finds herself looking at Byulyi more than she would consider normal.  She sighs, pressing her hand to her cheek, idly doodling in her notebook, frowning when she hears the loud laugh only Byulyi owns.  

_do you think of our kiss as much as i do?_

Yongsun wants to say _no_ , but even now she can still remember how warm those lips were on hers.  

The class quiets down, the sound of the teacher walking in, the hallway goes quiet, Byulyi’s laugh fading away.  

-

They're starting test prep, Yongsun sighs at the packets, slides them into her bag, careful not to fold them.  She makes her way to the cafeteria, deciding to eat on her free period.

She has track practice later, she won’t have time to eat between her last class and their meeting.  She settles on something light, a salad, a pint of milk.  

The weather outside is still nice, autumn still clinging to summer.  She sits outside, likes the way the warm breeze feels against her hair.  

There’s some girls playing on the court, Yongsun sticks a fork absentmindedly into her salad, watching the way the younger girls dribble, cardigans tied around their waists.  She smiles when one of them makes a basket, chewing slowly as they celebrate.

“Byulyi unnie!” one of them calls out, attention grabbed by the older girl, walking by, hands holding a pear, a small bottle of milk, “come play with us!”

The wind blows then, a small breeze, breaks up the dark curtain of Byulyi’s hair, brings in a shy smile, a soft sigh as Byulyi puts her snacks on the grass, peeling off her jacket.

“Alright,” she smiles, taking a step back when one of the girls throws the basketball at her, catching it against her chest, "but no pouting when I win," she teases, mouth forming a grin.

Yongsun watches her dribble, other hand pushing her bangs out of her face.  She huffs, looks down at her salad, hating the way her eyes flicker when the girls cheer, when Byulyi laughs.

-

Yongsun’s changing when she hears Wheein’s braying laugh, the sound of hushing and then a giggle that she’s learn to place on Byulyi.

She freezes, hastily pulling down her sports bra in place, reaching for her shirt when she hears the door open.

“Yongsun unnie,” Wheein says excitedly, bounds up to her, “have fun at practice!”

Yongsun nods, feels like that’s all she can do when she feels the heavy feeling of Byulyi’s eyes on her, sweeping over her, stopping to a screeching halt on her bright blue bra, the skin of her midsection.

It’s suffocating, the way time seems to freeze, the way Byulyi’s gaze is blatant, Yongsun gains enough of her brain function to turn around, curling into herself as she finally finds her shirt, slips it on.

Byulyi isn’t there when she turns around, she can hear the lockers on the other side slamming open and close.  Other girls enter, some from their track team, others making way towards the archery side.

Yongsun takes a deep breath, presses her fingers to the side of her neck, where she can feel the way her blush is starting to cool down.  

“Ah,” she mutters to herself, “nothing a little running can’t fix.”

When she steps outside into their field, she can’t help but smile, the fresh air placing a sense of tranquility against her nerves, cooling against her warm skin.

“One, two, three,” she calls out, leading their butterfly stretch, smiling encouragingly at their team, “we’ll do warm up laps after we’re done with the stretches, four laps and then we’ll split into our sections.”

She gets a shout of agreement before they go down for leg lifts.

-

She’s running when she hears the loud thwack of arrows hitting their target.  Yongsun keeps her eyes ahead, stubbornly trying to keep from searching for Byulyi.  There’s loud exclaims of encouragements, jovial _well done's!_

Yongsun feels the way her legs burn, her calves screaming for her to stop.  But she keeps running, keeps going, knows that once she breaks the wall she’ll be able to run forever, away from Byulyi.

Her lungs start to burn, sides hurting, she curses to herself, too distracted to be breathing correctly.  She’s lost track of her laps, wants to slow down but her legs keep going, ruthless in their pain.

She manages to crash into the sides of the track, breathing in through her nose, exhaling out her mouth.  There’s people still running, Yongsun looks at her watch, walks slowly to her bag, searching for her water bottle.  She checks the time, practice is almost over.  The sky is starting to turn orange, the sun starting to go down.

-

She stays behind when their coach pulls her aside.

“You over exerted yourself,” he says, “you’re limping.”

“I…,” Yongsun swallows, “sorry, I didn’t realize.”

“The season has barely started, we can’t lose you just like that for being so careless,” he sighs.

Yongsun drops her head, “I’m sorry, Coach Lee”

“Keep your leg supported,” his tone changes, “don’t let it get too irritated.”

“No problem, coach,” she says.

-

The locker room is empty by the time she finishes wrapping her ankle, sitting on the metal bench, shivering at the cold air the ventilation system pumps in.

“So stupid,” she says to herself, slowly putting her running shoes back on, rotating her ankle to see how much it hurts.  She rummages through her bag for her sweater, pulling it on, struggling to get her hair untangled, the air inside her sweater stifling.

Her cheeks are pink with the effort by the time she succeeds, punching her arms into the sleeves, looking up to meet Byulyi at the door, looking at her.

“What’s wrong with your ankle,” she asks, stepping closer.  

Yongsun stares at her with wide eyes, trying to figure out why she didn’t hear her, wonders how long she’s been in the locker room with her.

“What are you doing here,” Yongsun splutters, wincing at the way her voice sounds too shrill.

Byulyi stops in her tracks, her bangs moving to the side when she tilts her head, “this is a public locker room,” she says.

Yongsun can’t say anything to that, her brain shuts down when Byulyi comes closer, her bag resting against her hip.  Yongsun wants to move away, but she can’t get her body to listen, watches as Byulyi gets close enough to wrap her fingers around her ankle, prodding, bursts of pain blooming under her jabs.

“Why are you so careless,” Byulyi says, Yongsun can’t look at her, can’t look at the smile she can hear in Byulyi’s question.

She loses it when Byulyi’s fingers turn gentle, rubbing against her swollen skin.  She kicks out, foot connecting to Byulyi’s thigh.

Byulyi hisses, drops her ankle and steps away.

Yongsun scrambles to get her things, slinging her bag over her shoulder, speed walking to the door.  She yanks it open, lets it slam close as she jogs off the field, towards the school.

The sun splits in half behind the horizon, the dim dusk washing over the city.  There’s still students near the school grounds, groups of girls eating together in the courtyard, littering the hall in small groups, talking in hushed voices.

Yongsun goes through them all, ignoring the looks they send her way, walking until she reaches the old wing of the school, slowing her jog into a walk, taking in breaths, trying to calm down the burning in her chest.

“What the hell,” she says to no one, the hallways empty, she feels like punching a wall, kicking something over.  The anger in her consumes her, she digs her fingernails into her palm, knuckles turning white.

Then there’s footsteps, Yongsun can hear how hurried they are, thinks it might be someone trying to reach a teacher to hand in their late assignment.

But there’s a hand wrapping around her elbow, turning her around, and she stares at Byulyi’s dark eyes, curling lashes, the thin line of her mouth.

“ _Why did you do that?_ ” Byulyi breathes out, expression cold.

Yongsun feels something in her go cold, rips her arm away from Byulyi’s hold, turns fully and pushes her away.  She watches Byulyi stumble back, a slight flush of pink rising to her cheeks.

“ _Stop following me_ ,” Yongsun says.

Byulyi’s body finds purchase on the wall, “who do _you_ think you are to treat _me_ like this?” Byulyi snaps back, pushing herself forward, hand going behind Yongsun’s neck, holding tight, “who said you could _touch_ me?”

Yongsun wants to laugh, but her throat feels like it’s closing and her eyes are burning with shameful tears.

“Who said you could _kiss_ me!” Yongsun spits out, twists her body enough to land a knee to Byulyi’s stomach.

Byulyi lets go of her, a pained sound coming from her mouth, Yongsun takes a step back, turns away but the air gets knocked out of her when Byulyi crashes into her, they land on the floor, Yongsun thinks there’s no way they haven’t been heard.  But her thoughts get mixed up, rolling around the floor, struggling to get up.  Her ankle twists the wrong way, Byulyi’s hold on her wrists too strong.  Her knee finds itself between Byulyi’s thighs and it’s enough to distract the other girl, to roll Byulyi under her.  She goes up to her knees, hand going up.

The loud snap of her palm meeting Byulyi’s cheek breaks over them.  Yongsun’s eyes land on the red mark of her hand spreading down Byulyi’s face.

She hears her name in a shout and then there’s hands under her armpits, pulling her off Byulyi.


	4. four.

There’s eyes following her as she gets pulled along the hallway, she keeps her head low, arm hurting from where the history teacher has his grip on it.

“I’ve got a fighter,” he says, pushing Yongsun towards the main office, “is Headmaster Kim seeing another student?”

It’s not long before Yongsun finds herself inside the headmaster’s office, fidgeting nervously when her gaze turns to her, steely.

“Kim Yongsun,” Headmaster Kim looks surprised, “last I saw you was the last showing of the school play.”

Yongsun stays still, the door closing.

“Sit down Miss Kim,” the headmaster sighs, “you’ve got some time to kill.”

Yongsun is halfway through their track schedule when the door opens again, closing gently. She turns back to look, body tensing as soon as she sees Byulyi bowing, the red of her cheek still vivid.

“Ah, Miss Moon, you’re here,” the headmaster gestures at the empty chair next to Yongsun, “sit.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Byulyi mutters, sits gingerly next to Yongsun, back rigid.

“Now, who will like to explain,” Headmaster Kim asks

There’s a bout of silence, the clock ticking loudly from the wall.

“She hit me,” Byulyi accuses, hand going to cup her cheek.

Headmaster Kim turns to look at Yongsun, gaze expectant

She can’t bring herself to say anything, she lowers her head, eyes looking at the carpet, freezing up.

_She kissed me._

She wants to say it so badly, wants to tell the headmaster everything.

_She said she liked me._

There’s something that stops her, her mouth refuses to open, lips pressed tight.

“Miss Kim,” the headmaster starts, “a student cannot and will not put a hand on another,” Yongsun can hear the way a drawer opens, “this kind of actions will not be tolerated.”

Yongsun finds her voice then, takes a small breath, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me,” Headmaster Kim says, “apologize to Miss Moon.”

That lights something inside of her, causes her to speak before she can think, “she hit me too!”

She expects Byulyi to protest, deny the accusation. She doesn’t say anything to deny her, her silence accepting.

Yongsun looks away from the headmaster’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Byulyi says quietly, eyes finding Yongsun’s.

There’s another moment of nothing, the drawer shutting gently, Yongsun watches as the headmaster fills out the forms.

“Since this is your first offense,” she says, “and you’re both otherwise excellent students, you’ll only serve detention time, with some service.”

Yongsun winces, quickly interjecting, “Headmaster Kim I have track practice,” she says, eyes flickering to Byulyi, “she has archery!”

The headmaster gives her a look, sliding over the pink copy of the detention slips, “You’ll serve detention for 3 months after the scheduled times for your corresponding practice, effective next week.”

-

The hallway is empty when the door shuts behind them, echoing loudly, making Yongsun wince. She watches as Byulyi turns to walk away, heading down towards the main exit.

“ _Hey,_ ” Yongsun shouts, hand grabbing Byulyi’s shoulder, turning her to face each other, “you can’t just leave when this is _your_ fault.”

Byulyi doesn’t say anything for a second, hand going to dislodge Yongsun grips, “there’s nothing else to do,” she says, “we broke a rule, we have detention.”

Yongsun feels the way a headache starts to creep, pressuring along her skull, “I-I don’t want to do this with you!”

Byulyi looks at her, smile slowly forming, “I don’t mind it being you,” she confesses.

Yongsun doesn’t have an answer to that, Byulyi takes her silence as permission to leave, turning around and heading down the hallway.

-

Wheein gives her wide eyes when she finally makes it back to the dorm. She looks up from her book, highlighter in her hand, midway to a passage.

“Is it true?” she hushes, dropping her highlighter, pushing her book off her lap, “everyone says you were pulled into the main office...you got into a fight?”

Yongsun groans, falling clumsily into her bed, covering her eyes with both hands, “I don’t want to talk about it,” she says, muffled by her hands.

“They said they pulled in Byulyi unnie after you,” Wheein pesters on.

“Wheein, _please_ ,” Yongsun pulls her hands away, letting them fall to her sides, “It was nothing, ok.”

“Why did you hit Byulyi,” Wheein asks, “what did she do to you?”

Yongsun doesn’t say anything, turning to look at the girl who now sits on her bed, “nothing, Wheein,” she smiles, “you wouldn’t understand.”

-

There’s some talk, Yongsun hadn’t expected anything less. But as she enters the locker room, ready to change for their PE class she feels eyes on her, glancing away when she turns to get her uniform from her bag.

No one has outright asked her, Yongsun ignores most of the whispering and talking. She changes quickly, not liking the way eyes are sizing her up.  
She spends her time running laps around the gymnasium, her eyes focused only to the front of her.

It feels strange as she goes through practice. She can feel the way the questions hang heavy between her and the others, but no one asks and Yongsun doesn’t want to answer anyway.

She doesn’t look forward to cleaning the blackboards after practice, doesn’t look forward to seeing at Byulyi.

-

When she walks into the first classroom, Byulyi’s already started to clean the first panel of the blackboard, wet sponge leaving streaks through the chalky residue.

She drops her bag into the nearest desk, forgoing apologies when Byulyi doesn’t bother acknowledging her, picking up the overly saturated sponge floating in the bucket.

They’re on the third classroom when Byulyi finally looks at her, sponge pressing wetly against the blackboard, “How was practice,” she says quietly, swiping the sponge around, creating loops on the board.

“Why do you care?” Yongsun snaps back, annoyance flaring, “we’re supposed to clean boards not talk.”

Byulyi doesn’t react to Yongsun’s tone, instead looks back at the board, shrugging.

Yongsun makes an exasperated sound, going to the opposite side of the board, wiping down too hard.

Byulyi does most of the board, Yongsun too lost in her angry thoughts to be productive.

She watches Byulyi pour out the dirty water, wringing out the sponges. She wants to leave before the other girl says anything.

But she still manages to hear a soft, “see you tomorrow.”


End file.
